


Sick of You

by bepreparedf0rhell



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: A little bit of angst, M/M, Smut, Threesome, a little bit dom/sub but not really, just a tiny bit of fluff because i'm the worst, still bad at tagging but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bepreparedf0rhell/pseuds/bepreparedf0rhell
Summary: In which Chris and Justin are just trying to angrily Do The Thing and Ricky has to show up in the middle and change the dynamic.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Justin Morrow, Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Justin Morrow/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	Sick of You

**Author's Note:**

> i just??? love these idiots so much???

“God, you can be such a fucking asshole, I swear,” Chris says to Justin, annoyance thick in his tone. Justin rolls his eyes. 

“Like you can’t be? You’re one of the biggest fucking dicks I’ve ever known, Chris! Everything’s always about you, no one else matters, and I’m fucking sick of it,” Justin fumes, and Chris’ eyes go wide. They’ve bickered plenty of times before, but never like this. There’d never been real rage behind Justin’s words. This time, though, there is. It’s fucking hot, if Chris is being honest. 

“You’re sick of me? I’m so fucking sick of _you_ , dude! You’re so goddamn dramatic about everything all the time! I’ve never met a grown man as whiny as you!” Chris hollers, not really even mad anymore. No, now he’s really mostly just seeing how far he can push Justin. Now, Chris has a goal in mind and is wondering if he’ll be able to achieve it. 

Chris can see Justin building up for a response, sees the rage flashing through his eyes and making his face and neck go red. Chris has always had a thing for anger, especially when it’s someone as formidable and emotive as Justin. He’s the only one in the band that rivals Chris in size, both of them being tall with long limbs and torsos that make them tower over most everyone around them. Chris has never been with someone like Justin, unless you count the guy he blew in the bathroom of a night club a few years before, which he doesn’t. 

“ _I’m_ whiny? Jesus Christ, Chris, you’re the bitchiest human being I’ve ever known!” Justin tosses back, and Chris wonders if he’s feeling the same things as he is. It seems like it; Justin seems less concerned with the actual argument and more concerned with staring at Chris like he’s about to eat him alive. Chris wishes he would. 

Chris takes a few steps towards him, watching him carefully. Justin doesn’t move a muscle, his wide eyes just locked onto Chris from where he’s perched on the edge of one of the beds in the room. Chris takes a few more steps and then a few more until he’s standing right in front of him. Justin looks up at him through his long lashes and Chris reaches one arm out towards him. When he first started reaching, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but about halfway there he decides and feels a twitch in his jeans over it. 

He takes a fistful of Justin’s dyed-green hair and pulls his head back, watching as his eyes flutter closed. Chris has never really noticed how… completely fucking hot Justin’s neck is, smooth skin with light stubble down his chin because he hasn’t shaved in a few days. Just as he’s about to make some sort of move - though he hadn’t quite decided what yet - Justin’s eyes open and he seems to have some ideas of his own. 

He stands, moving around the hand Chris still has wrapped in his hair. He levels his eyes with Chris’ and in one swift movement, reaches up and wraps a hand around his throat. Chris doesn’t falter for a second, knotting his fingers tighter into Justin’s hair and pulling so that his head falls off to one side. Justin tightens his fingers too, holding Chris’ neck not tightly enough to hurt or bruise, just tightly enough so that he knows he’s there and apparently he’s not okay with Chris making all the decisions here. Fine, Chris can be agreeable… kind of.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Justin asks, and Chris shrugs. 

“What do you want to do?” 

Justin doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lets go of Chris’ throat and shoves him hard backwards toward the other bed. Chris stumbles, his fingers untangling from Justin’s hair in the process but not enough that they don’t pull. There’s a few strands of Justin’s neon hair still left in his fist when he looks down at it and he lets them fall to the floor. Justin shoves him again, and this time he stumbles over the edge of the bed and lets himself fall backwards onto it. 

Justin climbs on top of him at once, and Chris is surprised at how completely turned on he is already. Sure, he’d always found Justin attractive, but there was something about this side of him. He likes him angry, fierce. Justin presses up against him and immediately he can tell that they’re both just as excited as one another. Chris can feel the bulge in Justin’s pants just as well as he can feel his own and he licks his lips, looking up at him expectantly. 

“I fucking hate you,” Justin says, and Chris is surprised at how convincing he sounds. 

“I hate you too,” he tosses back, and in a second Justin’s lips are on his. He’s rough, kissing him but almost feeling like he’s actively trying to hurt him. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip and his tongue more than once and Chris can’t help but let out a little whimper every time. It hurts but it’s also _so_ fucking good and he wonders why the hell they’ve never done this before. 

Chris lets this go on for a while, lets Justin kiss him and bite him and rub on him. But eventually he decides it’s his turn. He musters all of his strength and flips them, leaving him on top and Justin looking up at him with flushed cheeks. 

It takes everything Chris has, but he forces himself not to press their bodies together. He doesn’t want Justin to feel him, doesn’t want him to get pleasure from this right now. He reaches for Justin’s arms and raises them above his head, holding them tightly by the wrists, taking a second to take in the angles of his muscular-but-not-too-muscular figure as he goes. God, he really is so goddamn pretty. He’s not just attractive, not just handsome. He’s fucking _pretty_ and Chris has to take a deep breath because of the way Justin’s deep eyes stare up at him. 

“What do you want to do?” Chris mirrors his question from earlier and Justin smirks, thinks about it. Before he can answer, though, there’s a knock at the door. Both of their heads snap towards the sound and they both scowl at the closed door. 

“Ignore it,” Justin insists, his voice gruff and low in a way that’s damn near irresistible to Chris. He plans to listen to him, but then whoever it is knocks again. And again. 

“Fuck,” Chris grumbles, sliding off of Justin and doing his best to adjust himself in his pants. It doesn’t quite work, but whatever. He doesn’t really care if anyone knows what they’re doing. Maybe it’ll convince them to fuck off sooner than if he just said it. 

He crosses the room in a few long strides and glares through the peephole in the door. It’s Ricky. 

Chris tosses a glance back at Justin, who’s still spread shamelessly across the bed. His arms are still above him but he’s bent them underneath his head and his eyes are closed, a blissful look on his face. 

He looks at Ricky outside the door again, an idea quickly forming in his head. No, this could work. This could definitely work. Looking back at Justin, he unlocks and opens the door. Justin’s head snaps up and he shifts a little, probably trying to adjust himself very similarly to the way Chris had a few moments before. 

Ricky steps inside the room and seems to immediately be able to read the situation. Chris watches as his head shifts from Justin back to him and his blue eyes go wide. 

“Were you two about to fuck?” Ricky asks unabashedly, and Chris hides a smile as Justin’s face turns just a little bit red. Chris knows damn well that both of them have screwed around with Ricky before. This is the first time Chris and Justin have gotten close, though, and Chris is hoping throwing Ricky into the mix will throw Justin off his game. It seems to be working. 

“Yep,” Chris answers, shrugging. He can see Justin swallow hard and turns to Ricky. “Wanna join?”

Ricky’s blue eyes shift to Justin, who nods just slightly, and it seems to be game on from there. In a flurry of clothes being thrown off and lips and hands ending up on bodies, suddenly all three of them are on the bed, though they don’t quite fit, and all they're all moaning and breathing heavily. It’s a little clumsy at first as they seem to try and figure out where they fit, but as they get into sort of a rhythm it’s easier. 

Chris’s eyes close and his head lolls back as Ricky puts his mouth around his dick and Justin kisses him roughly, his own dick in his hand. Chris reaches up and smacks Justin’s hand away from himself, smiling evilly as he watches Justin’s head fall off to the side and his eyes close as Chris touches him. Justin’s hand falls to Chris’ chest and he digs his nails in so deep that Chris can feel a drop of blood roll down his ribcage. 

They stay like that for a while, Chris working Justin’s dick and Ricky working Chris’, until Chris decides it’s not good enough. He takes his hand off of Justin, whose eyes snap open in annoyance. He also pushes Ricky away gently and almost comes right then and there when he sees the pout on Ricky’s face. 

A plan now fully forming in Chris’ mind, he stands and moves behind Justin on one side of the bed. He reaches up and wraps his arm around Justin’s throat, his dick violently twitching as he bends Justin back towards him just a little bit. They’re so close in height that he can’t see his face, but he doesn’t have to. He can tell by the way Justin’s got his ass very conveniently pointed out at him that he’s ready for what he’s planning on doing. 

Ricky seems to take a cue as well, and Chris watches over Justin’s shoulder as he crawls forward on the bed and looks at Chris expectantly. Chris shoves a finger into his own mouth and swirls it around, nodding at Ricky. At the same time, Ricky shoves Justin’s dick into his mouth and Chris slips that finger inside of him. Justin gasps and bucks his hips forward, making Ricky gag. Chris glances at him, but he’s still going steady on Justin’s dick, so he assumes he’s fine. 

After a minute, Chris slips in another finger, and then another. Justin’s moaning and gasping and sounds like he’s damn near ruined and it’s taking everything Chris has not to come too soon. 

“Are you ready?” he whispers into Justin’s neck, biting down hard on his soft skin and watching the goosebumps that rise over it. 

“Yeah,” Justin grits out. “Please.”

Chris nods and Ricky pulls Justin’s dick out of his mouth and moves backwards so that Chris can double him over onto the bed. Once he’s got him bent over, he pushes into him slowly and carefully. He’s not sure if Justin’s ever been fucked before and doesn’t want him to write it off after this one time because damn it, Chris is just having too much fun. 

Justin cries out and reaches for Ricky in front of him, who pulls his head up and kisses his lips gently. Chris is jealous; Ricky’s a damn good kisser, but it’s okay. Chris is getting what he’d wanted and that’s enough… for now, anyway. He takes it slow until Justin seems to be warmed up to it, bucking his hips backwards so that Chris ends up pushing in faster. Chris takes the bait, fucking him harder and faster. Justin whimpers, his lips still connected to Ricky’s, and Chris notices for the first time that Justin’s hand has made its way to Ricky’s dick while Ricky’s has made its way to Justin’s. 

It doesn’t take long. Chris wishes it would take longer, but in a few minutes he’s dangerously close and he can tell by the way they’re both breathless and moaning loudly into each other’s mouths that Justin and Ricky are too.

“Fucking fuck,” Chris grumbles a moment later as he finally lets loose, feeling like he’s about to fucking pass out as his orgasm rolls over him. A second later, Justin and Ricky are both getting there too, both of them closing their eyes and tossing their heads back, working each other through slowly. 

When everyone’s back down from the high for the most part, Chris pulls out slowly. Immediately, Justin’s standing and turning. For a split second, Chris thinks he’s going to hit him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he catches his lips in a kiss much gentler than the ones they’d shared earlier. It’s soft and sweet and lazy and Chris is almost ready for round two because of it. He wraps his arms around Justin and holds him close, surprised by the act of sweetness but not mad about it. 

“I still fucking hate you,” Justin mumbles softly into his lips and Chris can’t help but laugh quietly. 

“Don’t worry, I still hate you too,” Chris replies, pulling out of the kiss and pulling his long arms off of Justin to reach for Ricky. “Mostly because I’m fucking jealous as all hell that you got to make out with Ricky.”

“I hate you too. I came here to get fucked and you stole it,” Ricky says, looking up at Justin with a smirk on his face. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Justin says, laughing as he turns and heads to the bathroom to clean himself up.

**Author's Note:**

> wheresyoursavior.tumblr.com


End file.
